


Touch

by AlyxStar



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 12:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8014807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlyxStar/pseuds/AlyxStar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knows her, perhaps even better than he knows himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Wooooooo just a little drabble for once. And no multi-chapter in sight! XD
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age II or any of its characters. If I did, Hawke would have had the option to level Danarius with one punch.

He takes his time to learn Hawke's body, all the curves and solid muscle and the softer area around her tummy.

A dance of fingers along her ribs will make her giggle and squirm without fail, a delightful sound he has heard so little of since her mother's passing. Nipping teeth and quick tongue following the same path will have her trembling and gripping the bed sheets.

Rolling her onto her stomach and kneading at her back will have her moaning in obvious pain to start with as tight muscles resist his ministrations, then in quiet relief as a week's worth of tension eases one stubborn knot at a time until she is almost asleep under him.

He had made the mistake once of laying his fingers at the nape of her neck to keep her close during a kiss. She had flinched, sucking in a panicked breath and lightning sparking bright chains along her skin, shocking him so violently the lyrium brands had pulsed in time to the spasms of his body when he'd dropped to the floor. _That_ had required a lengthy discussion into the wee hours of the morning. He had learned, though, and even now was careful to keep his hands either in her hair or on her shoulders.

He knows she has no feeling on the back of her left thigh just above her knee, the skin numb and the nerves deadened from a farming accident when she was a little girl. Knows that massaging her calves will turn her to loose-limbed putty.

Kisses in the morning are gentle things, fleeting on her lips and feather-light on her forehead and cheeks, gentle coaxing back to the waking world in time for breakfast.

And the wound that should have killed her... he knows of the phantom pain she suffers, the same pain that used to have her doubled over with eyes tight shut against tears now only troubling enough to draw her hand to the verticle scar left on her abdomen as a reminder of her own mortality. It draws his hand, too, and his lips, and a silent thank you to the Maker or the Creators or whoever or whatever had chosen to intervene that day to keep her alive.

But today is not the day to dwell on such memories and terror. No, today he is on his knees despite her protests to kiss where his child will grow, loved and safe and _theirs_. A child. _His_ child. _With Hawke_.

A dozen kisses - each one its own **I love you** and **I will protect you** \- before he's resting his ear there instead and banding his arms around Hawke's thighs to keep her in place.

"Stay like this awhile? Please?"


End file.
